The Hearts in the Centre
by OoopsAmObsessed
Summary: Post DintP Bones embraces life rather than retreating behind her walls. How does Booth cope in the aftermath of her revelation? What happens when Hannah reads Brennan's books? Why is he dreaming of Sweets? Will it all work out in the end? Yes, of course.
1. Chapter 1

**The Hearts in the Centre - Chapter One**

_Summary: Following Bones' admission to Booth she decides to embrace life rather than retreat behind her walls. How does Booth cope in the aftermath of her revelation? What happens when Hannah reads Brennan's books? Why on earth does he propose? Why is he dreaming of Sweets? Will it all work out in the end? Of course it will, this is one more way they might get there, it's likely to be a fluffy finish but hey, that's what we all want right?_

_Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Bones or any affiliated characters. No copyright infringement intended._

_A/N: This story follows 'The Doctor in the Photo', ignoring the end of the episode, and pretending she stayed at home that night rather than going back into the lab, it starts the following morning. _

_The story sets off at a tangent from there, it won't follow the path of or the spoilers for future episodes as I'm in the UK in a TV license & Sky free house (have only seen episodes 1, 2 and 9 of season 6 because I found them online) and hence I won't see all of series 6 until it's out on DVD)._

_Like everyone else I'm desperate to see them finally get it together, I started with a truly fluffy end and some how in putting the how-it-happened together the story has grown and grown. I have the plot sketched out mostly but suggestions, comments, criticisms more than welcome. _

_Many apologies in advance if any ideas have inadvertently slipped in from other fan fiction I've read (please do let me know if you think I have) I've been reading obsessively since I found this site. I've never written before so I hope it's vaguely okay and somewhat entertaining. Please excuse the poor grammar, you'd think I'd have learnt the rules by my age. And apologies for any word misuse, I seem to be fairly good at throwing words that seem right but might not actually mean exactly what I intended. _

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The front door opened slowly as though the person opening it didn't really want to know who was there, for a millisecond after the door bell had rung she wondered if it might be him, but both her heart and her logical mind told her it wasn't.

'Sweetie, oh sweetie.' Angela's voice was soft, concern and sympathy bathing her friend. She took in Brennan's red rimmed eyes, disheveled hair, her posture of defeat. Angela had never seen her friend like this before.

'Ange.' Brennan mustered half a smile, she sounded pleased to see her friend. 'Come in.'

Angela had been uncertain of the reception she would receive, she expected at least some resistance, acquiescence was a surprise. It was 9am on Saturday morning and Brennan hadn't even questioned her presence. Clearly this was an unusual situation. Booth had spoken to Hodgins last night, pregnancy tiredness having already driven his wife to bed, he'd simply suggested Brennan could do with a shoulder to lean on, cryptically he'd expressed dismay that he couldn't be the one to provide it but that was the only clue he'd given to her need for support.

'I don't know the specific reason why I'm here but whatever you need Sweetie, companionable silence, a shoulder to cry on, someone to kick Booth's butt.' The last comment raised a wry smile from Brennan. 'That won't be necessary Angela, but thank you for offering.'

After a brief pause Brennan continued, 'I'm glad you're here. I'll try not to cry directly on your shoulder but the company is appreciated. I think I've finally learned I don't have to live my life on my own.'

'You sit, I'll make tea,' commanded Angela. 'You should be sitting and I should be making drinks. You're the one who is pregnant,' insisted Brennan. 'Bren, I'm fine. There will be plenty of time to cosset me once the bump is huge and I can't see my feet. For now let me. Anyway. I'm not the one who's been up crying most of the night.' Ange raised her eye brows and shot her friend a sad smile. 'Rooibos, green, or something stronger? Well, for you, not me,' she joked and gestured to her burgeoning bump.

'A little early for liquor I think. The herbal box by the kettle, it's supposed to be uplifting and I could do with all the help in that department that I can get right now.'

As Angela walked into the kitchen Brennan sank into the sofa, curling her legs underneath her, fighting the urge to simply curl up and disappear. Thoughts returned to the conversation in the car the previous evening. Her reverie was interrupted by the beep of her cell phone. She read the message, despite herself a fond smile played on her lips, tears threatened once more, his gesture touched her greatly.

Angela reappeared, steaming mugs in hand, frowning in question at the phone. Brennan pulled two intricately carved coasters into place on the coffee table. 'Booth,' she said, unable to hide the love and pain he evoked. 'We've always had this understand...what's ours in ours. He just wanted me to know it was okay to talk to you, tell you anything I needed to.' She paused, 'He sent you.' A statement rather than a question.

'Jack spoke to him. I was sleeping. He just said you needed someone but it couldn't be him. Jack said he sounded...well, crushed, that he couldn't be the one to comfort you. He didn't tell us what it was about.' Angela laid a hand on her friends arm. 'You don't have to either. I can just be here. If you want to talk though I promise I'll just listen.'

Brennan smiled at her friend. 'I feel that I don't deserve you Angela. Though I'm trying to learn that I do deserve friends, a life, happiness...' She trailed off, thinking of the missed chance for the happiness she really wanted.

Angela fought with herself to remain silent, waiting for her friend to open up, and she did, in a way she never had before.

'I find I'm fighting the desire to forget the impact of this last week, to return to the security of fact and logic. But it was a lonely place. I may have believed I was meant to be alone, but I didn't want to be. This case... I don't want to be like her. She had exceptional career success, she was a smart, accomplished woman. But what did it matter, when she was gone, nobody missed her. She may as well not have existed.'

'Sweetie, you're not her. You have friends, family. We love you. We need you in our lives. Just like her what you do, your career, it makes a huge difference. She was a surgeon, she saved lives. You solve murders, you stop murderers, you provide answers, those answers make a huge difference to those the victims leave behind...'

'But she...she rejected the man she loved, the man who loved her. It's conjecture, but maybe she felt fear as I did. When I said no to Booth...'

Angela raised her eyebrows at this admission, it took all her restraint not to say something, but she listened, as she had promised, if Brennan wanted to say more she would.

Brennan noted Angela's silent question. 'Before Maluku. I was too scared. He means too much to me, I couldn't let myself risk loosing what we had. Our partnership, his friendship, I didn't think I could live without it. I felt that I was unable to open my heart enough to be someone he could love.'

Angela didn't know what to say. Brennan continued, 'I will always regret missing my chance. It was illogical to think that what we had could continue if he moved on, forged a relationship with someone else. Of course his girlfriend takes precedence...' she trailed off. 'Somehow I lost the thing I was trying to protect,' she smiled wistfully. 'However, he is happy, I wanted him to find the happiness he deserves. He loves Hannah, she can give him the life he wants.'

Angela drew breath, unsure what to say first. 'Sweetie, you have to tell him.' Then suddenly the pieces fell into place, she knew why she was there. 'You did, didn't you?'

Brennan nodded. 'It was selfish of me. I caused him pain, again. It was unfair, he's with Hannah now.' She echoed Booth's words with an odd tone to her voice 'And she's not a consolation prize.'

Angela couldn't hide her emotions any longer 'But he doesn't love Hannah. It's all a front, he might think he is happy, but it's all on the surface, with you it would be so much more.'

Tears threatened to overwhelm Brennan for the umpteenth time. She had been unaware a person could cry that much without dehydrating. She replied to Angela's concerned gaze. 'I'm okay. I just wish I knew how to move past this. I need to stop this endlessly running through my thoughts. I'm glad that I can feel now, even if it is sadness and regret. But I need to be able to clear my mind.'

Angela nodded, 'What you need is closure,' she informed her best friend. Brennan looked uncertain at the term. 'I don't know what that means.'

'Here's an analogy. Once you've made an identification for a set of remains, you wrap up all the loose ends, answer all the questions. You make sure you know exactly what happened. It allows you to put the file away. Move on to the next case.' Angela continued. 'Now, I'm not saying this is the end of you and Booth. I still believe there might be a chance...' She paused as her friend imperceptibly shook her head, a wash of sadness on her face. 'Right now he's with Hannah and to Booth loyalty is paramount I know that, he wouldn't simple walk away from her...' Angela paused as Brennan started to speak but she cut her off. 'I know what you're going to say. But he isn't in love with her. Not like he's in love with you. Trust me, I've been watching you both for six long years. It's going to take him time, time to process. But at some point he's going to realize that his loyalty to you, to what you have, to what you will have, is more important than his loyalty to her.'

'In the mean time what I think you should do is this, write. It's always been your solace. I have to break it to you, Kathy and Agent Andy...they did not help your 'I'm-not-in-love-with-Booth' protests.' Angela raised her eyebrows. Brennan started to speak but Angela stopped her, 'You've admitted it now.' She paused briefly 'I don't mean another book, maybe a letter to Booth, you don't have to give it to him, but it will help you sort this all out in your mind, give you some resolution. Hopefully help you to be ready to grab that glimmer of an opportunity when it comes your way. And if you don't grab, you know I'll push you, right?'

'I like the idea Angela. As much as I would like to, it would be unfair to burden him with a further explanation of my feelings given his commitment to Hannah. I think writing it down would help me though. I feel strongly that I must learn from Dr Eames, not just with regard to Booth.' She tried to erase the sadness from her eyes. 'I need to embrace the rest of my life. My family, my friends, my little niece or nephew in there.' Brennan looked at Angela seeking approval at the use of those terms, her friend always maintained they were like sisters. Angela was surprise at the new Brennan, one who didn't tack on an explanation that they weren't really blood relatives. Brennan reached out tentatively, Angela imperceptibly nodded and guided her friends hand to her emerging bump. 'A little longer for kicking but it's life affirming just to feel the new energy isn't it?' Brennan simply nodded and smiled at Angela, no factual excerpts, no data on pregnancy, the scientist within made a little room for the rest of her.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Food and a long hot shower revitalized the woman who'd decided to choose life. The season brought darkness early; a fire, wine and cashmere clothing went some way to providing the comfort and cosiness she desired. A misnomered 'guy hug' would have been just want she needed, but she was going to have to learn to live without them. She was a strong woman, she would survive this aching heart, but for once she wasn't going to let her pain turn her in on herself. It was her tribute to Dr Eames, she would not forget her, she would honour her memory by embracing her life in the way her counterpart no longer had the chance to do.

As she settled on the sofa she thought of all the moments in the last six years that had lead them to where they were. She picked up the fountain pen Booth had given her to celebrate the success of her first book and began to pour her heart out to him.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

_A/N: Hopefully this won't end up too out of character, though I think it might. It's not to relevant in this chapter but I should say now that I don't buy the side of Brennan's character that is completely oblivious to the meaning of idioms and metaphors and cultural knowledge. Fair enough that she isn't up to date on the latest popular culture but she's a native speaker of the language, a highly intelligent woman and an anthropologist for crying out loud, why should she not have picked up full language usage is beyond me, and she's highly knowledgeable of seemingly every culture around the globe but not her own, this doesn't make sense. Maybe I've understood incorrectly but I though the literalness and logical world view were supposed to be walls she had hidden behind to protect herself, just because this is how she interacts with the world and processes her perceptions doesn't mean she shouldn't be able to understand a sizable component of her mother tongue. So anyway, I've not gone too far down the 'I don't know what that means' path, maybe it's been somewhat an act, part of her cold-fish front, now she's intending to embrace life, to feel, the front has dropped a little and maybe just echos of her past behaviour would be seen._

_Other things that probably aren't quite right:_

_I have a feeling the making tea in a crisis might be a little to British but hey. No idea what Brennan drinks but I imagined it wasn't your standard tea or coffee._

_The bit about the pen being a gift from Booth I've totally made up, I seem to remember something about the first book being written in the year between the first and second cases but I could be making that up. _


	2. Chapter 2

**The Hearts in the Centre**

_Summary: Following Bones' admission to Booth she decides to embrace life rather than retreat behind her walls. How does Booth cope in the aftermath of her revelation? What happens when Hannah reads Brennan's books? Why on earth does he propose? Why is he dreaming of Sweets? Will it all work out in the end? Of course it will, this is one more way they might get there, it's likely to be a fluffy finish but hey, that's what we all want right?_

_Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Bones or any affiliated characters. No copyright infringement intended._

_Rating: T (for later chapters)_

**...**

_At the end of Chapter 1_

_Food and a long hot shower revitalized the woman who'd decided to choose life. The season brought darkness early; a fire, wine and cashmere clothing went some way to providing the comfort and cosiness she desired. A misnomered 'guy hug' would have been just want she needed, but she was going to have to learn to live without them. She was a strong woman, she would survive this aching heart, but for once she wasn't going to let her pain turn her in on herself. It was her tribute to Dr Eames, she would not forget her, she would honour her memory by embracing her life in the way her counterpart no longer had the chance to do._

_As she settled on the sofa she thought of all the moments in the last six years that had lead them to where they were. She picked up the fountain pen Booth had given her to celebrate the success of her first book and began to pour her heart out to him. _

**...**

**Chapter 2**

Usually Brennan declined her publishers periodic requested that she visit them at their office in New York, feeling her time too valuable and not understanding why a telephone conversation wouldn't be sufficient to complete the required business.

However, feeling restless on Sunday morning - a day that only a year or so ago she would likely have spent with Booth, perhaps picnicking in the park on his weekends with Parker, or enjoying the city with him alone - she thought of the email from the publishers that she'd briefly scanned and dismissed on Friday.

They'd requested a meeting on Tuesday, ostensibly to discuss a small book tour she would be undertaking later in the month. She suspected the real subject was her reticence to commitment to a further novel. Since she'd returned from Maluku she'd been suffering from writer's block, in wasn't just an inability to write, she'd been unable to even create a credible plot line. Sub-plots however ran amok in her mind. She had been tempted to have some kind of unfortunate occurrence befall Agent Andy's new girlfriend, however she suspected Angela would have quite a lot to say about that and she rather not imagine the questions it would elicit from Dr. Sweets.

Trying to learn not to compartmentalize, but equally not to dwell on her quashed hopes and aching heart - she would never understand how an organ could feel emotional pain but unsettlingly it did, oh how it did - and instead to embrace life as she'd silently promised Laura Eames she would do, she impulsively opened her laptop to book a flight. Waiting for the page to load she reflected on her emerging cognizance of the changes Booth had brought about in her, for one she had found herself making promises to the deceased and her mother's gravestone knew all about the turmoil she had felt since returning to D.C.

Emboldened by the decision to flee the city, albeit temporarily, possible plans crowded her mind. In the early hours of Saturday morning she'd felt a strong desire to run, permanently, to be anywhere but a city which would always teem with memories, surely to be constant reminders of the loss of her treasured partnership and friendship, or to be honest her relationship, with Booth - for now that it was gone she'd finally accepted her friends view that they had shared a relationship in all but name and, of course, the satiation of physical desires. However she knew she could not run. In addition to the larger realization she'd had whilst in Maluku, she had also accepted that she had both family and friends here, people who she needed and and who she was needed by, she wouldn't desert them again.

She booked the earliest available flight leaving herself only an hour to pack and leave for the airport. She would dine out this evening, perhaps visit the theatre. Monday and Tuesday, aside from the meeting with her publishers, could be spent enjoying the city, perhaps shopping. Angela was always suggesting they have a weekend of "girl time" in New York. She hoped her friend wouldn't be too disappointed that she was going alone. She made a mental note to bring a gift or two back for Angela and her impending arrival. Although in the past she had shied away from the social contracts implicit in the exchange of gifts she had learnt, once again from Booth, that it was immensely pleasurable to demonstrate her appreciation of relationships in this way. The remainder of the week she would spend at a yoga retreat in New York State that she'd always intended to visit but simply never found the time. In the past any break from the Jeffersonian had almost always been spent on digs in far flung locations.

She hurriedly packed, emailed her publishers regarding her intention to attend their proposed meeting, booked the retreat, and finally left voicemails for both Cam and Angela at the Jeffersonian. Notably she decided not to inform her partner. If a case arose Dr Saroyan would simply assign one of the interns to Booth. If no cases arose, she realized with a pang, he was unlikely to notice her absence. Trying to regain the feeling of lightness brought on by these spontaneous vacation plans she left for the airport.

The Eames file which she had intended to drop back into the Jeffersonian on her way remained on her desk. Also on her desk sat the letter to Booth, the one she hadn't intended he read.

...

_A/N I think this has come out a little too wordy, I was aiming for the sort of language Brennan would use but not sure if it's a bit too much. Not quite sure how to fix, so let's just post it._

_Also, I know she didn't have any files with her on Friday night but for the sake of my plot plans I'm pretending she did, or had them at home already. _

_Reviews much appreciated!_

_(Sorry meant to reply to reviews from chapter one here but only just remembered and really really need to be going to bed...will do next chapter)_


	3. Chapter 3

**The Hearts in the Centre**

_Summary: Following Bones' admission to Booth she decides to embrace life rather than retreat behind her walls. How does Booth cope in the aftermath of her revelation? What happens when Hannah reads Brennan's books? Why on earth does he propose? Why is he dreaming of Sweets? Will it all work out in the end? Of course it will, this is one more way they might get there, it's likely to be a fluffy finish but hey, that's what we all want right?_

_Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Bones or any affiliated characters. No copyright infringement intended._

_Rating: T (just to be in the safe side)_

_A/N Just to say thank you so much for all the reviews and follows, they've definitely made me keep going despite the wish I'd written more before I started posting! _

_P.S. Sorry this took longer than expected, in a the-dog-ate-my-homework fashion my excuse is that the computer ate the first half of this, damn myself for not hitting save. It's not what I said the first time (which I'm rather gutted about as it was flowing so well...aaagggh) but it's just going to have to do. As is the second half in the intests of actually posting something._

_Also, this chapter is set on Saturday night - yes I seem to have gone back in time as chapter two was on Sunday (who said chapters had to be in temporal order?) If anyone can tell me what month they're in in Doctor in the Photo I can make up some dates to put on to make it clearer how time is moving, thanks!_

**...**

_At the end of Chapter 2_

_She hurriedly packed, emailed her publishers regarding her intention to attend their proposed meeting, booked the retreat, and finally left voicemails for both Cam and Angela at the Jeffersonian. Notably she decided not to inform her partner. If a case arose Dr Saroyan would simply assign one of the interns to Booth. If no cases arose, she realized with a pang, he was unlikely to notice her absence. Trying to regain the feeling of lightness brought on by these spontaneous vacation plans she left for the airport._

_The Eames file which she had intended to drop back into the Jeffersonian on her way remained on her desk. Also on her desk sat the letter to Booth, the one she hadn't intended he read._

**...**

**Chapter 3 **

Hannah paused at the door to the apartment, keys in hand, to wonder which Seeley she would find inside. Certainly it wouldn't be the open, easy, solider she'd met in Afganistan. Ironic that the most relaxed version of him she knew had been her companion in a war zone.

After she'd expressed her gratitude to him under the fig tree she thought she'd detected regret in his eyes, a reluctance to become involved, but she had fallen for his easy charm, and so she pursued him. She had needed a 'home' out there. She prided herself on being a hardened reporter but even she needed respite from the bleakness. They had fallen into something light and easy, they did become a home to each other, a counter balance to the horrors of their location. They brought each other relief from the realities of the days and nights of nothingness chatter and sexual release.

She didn't like to admit it but she'd been hurt that he hadn't even broached the topic of her returning to the States with him. She had supposed it was because he understood her. He knew she was a free spirit, blowing where the stories took her, unwilling to settle for long. She was a woman who valued her independence, the sole arbiter of decisions affecting her life. Why would he ask when he knew what the answer would be?

When the offer of a Washington post had come up she'd surprised herself by accepting it. When she pursued Seeley she hadn't intended it to be anything more than fun and respite in the war zone. However the more she'd come to know him, the more she'd realised he was the kind of man they didn't make anymore, he was one not to let get away. She might not want a normal, settled life, but she still wanted someone. Someone to be waiting for her when she returned triumphant, story submitted, ready to wash of the travel grime and recharge for her next quest. Some time soon she was going to have to tell him that the press job was a sabbatical cover, a test of her abilities, a chance to cement her connections with him before juicier international assignments beckoned.

Deep within her a voice she was barely aware of was whispering to her that perhaps what she'd done was wrong, she ignored the choice his leaving made implicit, she presented her decision to him as a fait accompli and really he'd had no choice in the matter, after all who would turn down a person who'd moved their life half way across the world for them. Certainly not a man like Seeley Booth.

Had she had decided to surprise him, not to offer any warning that she'd decided to change her life for him, because part of her had feared that once he had returned to D.C., to the FBI, to his friends, family, to the partner he spoke so highly of, to whatever had caused him to initially resist her advances, that he might not wholeheartedly welcome her back into his life?

To her relief he had seemed overjoyed at her arrival, and in her excitement her truth seeking sensibilities had been disarmed, as his initial shock wore off she didn't notice the artifice in his manner, in his proclamations of happiness, of love. She certainly hadn't seen the pain and confusion in his partner's eyes that day.

As the weeks eased by, the rose-tint faded and she became unconsciously aware of his unease, the stiffness to their interactions, to the work he was putting in to being happy, to being in love. He'd begun to vacillate between two personas. The distracted and closed off Seeley would suddenly overcompensate, so desperate to prove his devotion, to demonstrate how much he wanted her to be a part of his life, that he stifled her with attention.

Whilst their Afgani conversations had tended towards lightness and humour, there had been more serious topical discussions. However, back on his home turf, the seemed stuck in mundane exchanges and conversations of work, or rather of the parts of it they were willing to reveal to each other. It seemed the closer she came to him the more he started to conceal; and she'd begun to realise she didn't have the slightest inkling of what he might want to hide.

It bothered her that she knew something wasn't right but couldn't pinpoint what it was. She was usually so good at reading people, however for reasons unknown she seemed unable to turn her journalistic beam towards her personal life. She felt as if it was something obvious, something that had been staring her in the face, something she should have known from the very beginning.

Perhaps she'd ask Temperance. Surely his long time partner and good friend would have some insights. Although, perhaps not, their cases sounded intensive, offering little time for personal chatter, and he rarely saw her outside of work as far as Hannah could see. How could they be such good friends on that basis? Maybe he'd been withdrawing from her too.

No matter musing over recent weeks, last night clearly something had triggered more significant rumblings in his mind. Previously, withdrawn and introspective Seeley had appeared fleetingly, but on Friday night he'd arrived in full and she feared he'd brought luggage. He had arrived home late, soaked to the bone, monosyllabic. Her investigative instincts kicked in, she'd pelted him with questions. Was he alright? Where had been? Why wasn't he talking to her? He'd shrugged her off, seemingly unable to engage. Almost in a daze he peeled off his wet clothing and climbed into bed, quickly falling into a deep and restless sleep. If the sounds his stomach later produced were an indicator he hadn't even eaten. She was worried, this was the first time she hadn't been able to snap him out of his mood and provide a release from his unmentioned woes under the covers.

...

In some ways she was relieved that the Seeley she found when she opened the door was an unconscious one. He was sound asleep on the sofa, the room lit only by the flickering lights of the movie he had been watching and a lone candle burnt almost to the bottom on the dining table.

She looked at her watch, shit, it was ten to twelve. In compensatory mode that morning he'd suggested he make reservations at a fancy French restaurant for this evening. He had Parker for the day, before a sleepover that evening, and they had plans for a swim and the games arcade. Hannah had refused to go, citing intentions to relax and perhaps shop. She really valued her weekends, a chance to decompress from the week, so the idea of a unsavoury public pool and hours of watching them attempt to beat their highest scores on games they'd played countless times really didn't appeal. Parker was a delightful boy, she just didn't want to spend every other Saturday with him doing child-centric activities.

However, as usual a story called. She'd phoned Booth to cancel the date, he'd suggested late night take out instead. Apparently still in too-much-effort mode he had laid the table, unearthed linen napkins, bought her favourite wine and lit a candle. She'd rather have eaten out of the containers. There were even flowers on the table, a bouquet of daffodils this time, a curious choice, she didn't really see herself as a daffodil kind of woman, they were too simple and cheerful.

Settling in the armchair across from Booth she studied his features. Even in repose he looked troubled but that didn't take away from his looks, God that man was handsome. If he didn't make her go weak at the knees would this have all been very different? No she wasn't that shallow. She'd fallen for his charm, his laughter, his kind and considerate nature, his honesty, locality. These were all the things that made her want to share part of her life's journey with him. There was no point in all this if she didn't make an effort. She would make amends for cancelling plans yet again.

She signed and leant back in the chair. She was exhausted, she needed a break. Perhaps that was it, she'd plan a vacation for them. Perhaps just them, away from D.C., away from work, they could rekindle the fun and the lightness that had slowly been ebbing away.

...

_A/N: I haven't seen enough of series 6 to know anything much about Hannah so I'm just doing my own thing, hope you don't mind. _

_I will get to the letter soon I promise! Someone just has to find it first, and it has to get into Booth's hands. _

_Do let me know how I'm going..._


	4. Chapter 4

**The Hearts in the Centre**

_Summary: Following Bones' admission to Booth she decides to embrace life rather than retreat behind her walls. How does Booth cope in the aftermath of her revelation? What happens when Hannah reads Brennan's books? Why on earth does he propose? Why is he dreaming of Sweets? Will it all work out in the end? Of course it will, this is one more way they might get there, it's likely to be a fluffy finish but hey, that's what we all want right?_

_Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Bones or any affiliated characters. No copyright infringement intended._

_Rating: T (just to be in the safe side)_

_A/N Just to say thank you again so much for all the reviews and follows, without them I might not have kept going, really not sure where I thought I'd find the time for this._

_Sorry I'm not further into the actual plot yet, I didn't do as much planning as I really should have before starting this, and there appears to be more prelim needed than I thought, and it's going to be longer than I thought, and some how have managed bits and pieces of the end of the story before managing to tackle the end of the beginning of the story, aaggh. The upside is I just found a file and discovered I have written the letter already, just forgot about it (I have a 2 year old and my 'baby' brain has not recovered apparently) but I promise he will get his hands on it next chapter._

**... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

_At the end of Chapter 3_

_Settling in the armchair across from Booth she studied his features. Even in repose he looked troubled but that didn't take away from his looks, God that man was handsome. If he didn't make her go weak at the knees would this have all been very different? No she wasn't that shallow. She'd fallen for his charm, his laughter, his kind and considerate nature, his honesty, locality. These were all the things that made her want to share part of her life's journey with him. There was no point in all this if she didn't make an effort. She would make amends for cancelling plans yet again. _

_She signed and leant back in the chair. She was exhausted, she needed a break. Perhaps that was it, she'd plan a vacation for them. Perhaps just them, away from D.C., away from work, they could rekindle the fun and the lightness that had slowly been ebbing away. _

**... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...**

**Chapter 4**

That Friday night, on the short journey from Bones' apartment to his Booth tried his best not to think. Whilst he watched her enter the building he'd felt a great temptation to just drive. He had no idea where, but he had an overwhelming urge to get away from it all. He supposed this was the feeling that drove her to escape on digs whenever emotions threatened to overwhelm her carefully compartmentalized brain. However, driving would likely mean thinking, and his gut told him that thinking right now would not turn out well.

He wanted to be angry with her for throwing this on him, but he wasn't. He was mostly sad, sad for her that she was in pain, pain he knew all to well. In a strange way, he also felt happy for her that she'd broken through her walls, perhaps now she could have the life of happiness she deserved but never thought she could obtain, though just not with him.

What he had said to her was right, wasn't it? He was with Hannah now, she deserved that he make it work, she wasn't second best, she was his best shot at the life he's always imagined he'd have. Hannah was sunny, easy going, flexible, intuitive, she didn't need continual explanations of the 21st century, although he did kind of miss doing that, he and Bones had rarely spoken of anything other than strictly case work in months.

He had to change that, he'd been unfair, pushing her way because... Why? because... Had he sensed her revelation coming? Did he feel guilty about Hannah? Why should he when she was the one who said no, turned him and the future he offered down flat.

He was doing the right thing, Hannah was the right choice. It made sense, it was logical. But since when had he used logic to make a decision. Logic was Bones, he was all about the heart. But his heart was leaden and he didn't want to go there as to why.

He arrived home pushing all thoughts away. Ignoring Hannah's irritating barrage of questions he went straight to bed. Sleep would get him through this temporary moment of doubt, asleep he couldn't think.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

He awoke on Saturday morning to find Hannah in a cold mood, he felt terrible about the way he'd treated her last night, he'd practically ignored her, so keen to reach the oblivion of sleep, to make sure the questions that were threatening to bubble to the surface stayed submerged.

His relationship with Hannah had to work, he couldn't let the woman who could be his future slip away because he let the past get in the way. He'd moved on, she would move on, he'd fix their friendship, everything would be okay.

In the spirit of reparations he suggested he wine and dine Hannah that evening at a fancy French restaurant she'd been dropping hints about. It was a shame her enthusiasm for those plans didn't spread as far as his plans for the day with Parker. She did seem genuinely to like Parker, but less keen to spend time with him, she said she preferred time to herself while they had father / son time. He was sure the more she got to know Parker, the more she'd want to join in with their days together.

His time with Parker was the highlight of his fortnight, though he did have to admit he missed the dynamic of having a third person along, he hadn't realized how many weekends they'd spent with Bones until they weren't. He felt terrible for fobbing off Parker's questions, unable to supply a satisfactory answer for her absence in his son's life. He expected Bones was missing Parker too, they had grown to share a very strong bond. Unwanted thoughts of the future he'd dreamed of with Bones threatened, he blocked them out. Once he fixed their partnership, their friendship, he and Parker could start to spend time with Bones again. Especially if Hannah preferred not to join them.

He managed to keep thoughts at bay throughout the day at the pool and the games arcade. The one slip had been in the florists, his mind had wandered to Bones, wondering how she was, he hoped she'd let Angela in to comfort her. Surprised by the florist's question about the bouquet he wanted he accidentally ordered flowers for the woman on his mind, rather than the one that should occupy his thoughts. He would have discarded them but Parker was with him and would have asked questions. As it was he knew daffodils were Bones' favourite flower and had thrown a curious look in his father's direction.

They'd had a great day but he was exhausted, last night's sleep hasn't been restful, he tossed and turned all night; a fact Hannah had pointed out a little resentfully in the morning. Parker's questions about Bones hadn't helped either. For once he was quite grateful Parker had a sleepover that evening.

It felt wrong that he was somehow relieved when Hannah cancelled their date, he didn't have the energy for her questions. Feeling guilty for these thoughts he resolved to treat her to late night take-out, he texted her with the plans and placed an order with the local Vietnamese restaurant, he really fancied Thai, but that was his and Bones' thing, it had been so long since he'd turned up at her apartment late at night, take out in hand. If he hadn't made plans with Hannah, and if last night hadn't happened, he would have rushed over now, hoping to bridge their broken bond.

The evening passed slowly, Hannah didn't return home, the bouquet of daffodils stared at him from the dining table, in an attempt to quieten his mind he busily pottered through every chore he could think of, finally collapsing onto the sofa in front of a movie and was asleep within minutes.

He was dimly aware of Hannah returning home and briefly settling in the armchair opposite him. In no mood to talk he feigned sleep. Tomorrow would be a new day, he thought to himself, he would make an effort with Hannah, make this work. But for now he chose to remain sleeping on the sofa, despite the certain backache it would bring for tomorrow, rather than slip into bed next to his beautiful, desirable girlfriend's warm body, there was something wrong here wasn't there? Unwilling to take that thought further he slipped back into unconsciousness.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Sunday morning dawned to a predictably achy back, a note from Hannah to say she was out on her story but that she had a surprise for him when she got home, and an urgent need to get ready to pick up Parker from his sleepover. The day passes uneventfully yet enjoyably, Parker undeniably pleased that it was another Hannah-free day.

Hannah returned home in a cheerful mood, the coldness and the endless questions about what was preoccupying him had been banished. Shed been playful and teasing as he tried to find out what her surprise was. It turned out she'd booked them a vacation in two weeks time. It bothered him a little that she'd gone behind his back and spoken to Hacker to book him some time off, but he supposed the surprise was well intended. Her enthusiasm rubbed off on him, perhaps that was just what they needed, time alone, no work interruptions, a chance to relight their fire.

As for the tentative feelings of doubt he was battling with he realized his sniper mindset would be his salvation. The target was work, or it was Hannah. He'd focus on the one, or the other, and exclude all else. Except of course fixing his friendship with Bones, that was important, he felt great remorse for treating her so badly these last months.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Monday morning dawned and so did feelings of apprehension. He didn't know how things would be with Bones, would she even be willing to let him repair their friendship? Would she have retreated behind her walls? Permanently? Please God don't let her sever their partnership over this, he couldn't bear that. He'd bite the bullet and drop into the lab later, he was sure he could find some paperwork he needed her to sign.

Despite his resolve he must have looked fairly troubled when he arrived at the lab, Fisher took one look at him and offered him some of his revolting herbal mood enhancing tea and told him to just 'go to the ocean.' He surprise himself and Fisher by volatilely retorting 'and what, throw myself in?' He tried to calm himself down and laughed inwardly to himself that maybe Fisher was passing on a message from above that the trip to the shore with Hannah was just what he needed.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

_A/N: Okay so reading this back I realized she couldn't have spoken to Hacker as it was Sunday, ummm, well, let's just ignore that shall we, am lacking the energy to go back and work out how to fix that. Sorry._

_Reviews, criticisms, comments, suggestions, pointing out of errors all much appreciated._


	5. Chapter 5

**The Hearts in the Centre**

_Summary: Following Bones' admission to Booth she decides to embrace life rather than retreat behind her walls. How does Booth cope in the aftermath of her revelation? What happens when Hannah reads Brennan's books? Why on earth does he propose? Why is he dreaming of Sweets? Will it all work out in the end? Of course it will, this is one more way they might get there, it's likely to be a fluffy finish but hey, that's what we all want right?_

_Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Bones or any affiliated characters. No copyright infringement intended._

_Rating: T (just to be in the safe side - have forgotten what the ratings mean)_

_A/N: Apologies this wasn't the chapter I was intending to write, have been having trouble with the finding the letter part and some how ended up writing about Brennan's trip instead. I think I've shot somewhat out of character, but at this point just want to get something posted._

**...**

_At the end of Chapter 4_

_Monday morning dawned and so did feelings of apprehension. He didn't know how things would be with Bones, would she even be willing to let him repair their friendship? Would she have retreated behind her walls? Permanently? Please God don't let her sever their partnership over this, he couldn't bear that. He'd bite the bullet and drop into the lab later, he was sure he could find some paperwork he needed her to sign._

_Despite his resolve he must have looked fairly troubled when he arrived at the lab, Fisher took one look at him and offered him some of his revolting herbal mood enhancing tea and told him to just 'go to the ocean.' He surprise himself and Fisher by volatilely retorting 'and what, throw myself in?' He tried to calm himself down and laughed inwardly to himself that maybe Fisher was passing on a message from above that the trip to the shore with Hannah was just what he needed. _

**...**

**Chapter 5**

To her surprise Temperance Brennan was enjoying herself. Removing herself from D.C. and becoming immersed in irregular activities was doing an admirable job of keeping recent events from her mind. Angela had been correct, writing down her feelings, working through their evolution, examining both her rationality and irrationality, had helped her to begin making peace with what had happened. She'd enabled and allowed herself to understand both her heart and her head in relation to the man she belatedly considered the love of her life.

She would let herself grieve the loss of all that was between them and the future they could have had, but she resolved never to make a slip up, as she had on Friday, again. The same self sacrificing love that had not stood in the way of him moving on to find the happiness she erroneously believed she couldn't provide would stop her from hurting him further, she would show him she was fine, hide her pain from his eyes. Despite his response to her that wet night, and the distance he had put between them since his return from Afghanistan, she knew deep down he still cared for her as a friend, she didn't want worries about her state of mind to compromise his attention to Hannah and their relationship.

Yesterday evening she had dined with a colleague from the Maluku project who, once he'd worked up the courage, enquired whether she was now in a relationship with the partner she had spoken so fondly of, he'd expressed great surprise that they were not together - Daisy had evidently been gossiping around the camp -and then steeled himself to ask her if she might be interested in a date when he arrived in Washington on a short contract later in the month. With a new found respect and understanding for others feelings she had politely declined. Dating was the one area of her life in which she wouldn't be embracing every, or rather, any opportunities, at the present time she couldn't imagine ever even casually dating another man. Her heart may always belong to Booth and it would feel dishonest to date under those circumstances.

On Monday she had intended to shop a little, but as it turned out she had shopped a lot. Strolling in the early morning sunshine she had come across a baby boutique, remembering her intention to return with presents for Angela & Hodgins' baby she entered. As she began to browse she was momentarily set back by the odd sensation of an ache seemly emanating from her womb. She thought of the toddler she may now have if not for Booth's tumor, and the children, their children, who had laughed and danced through her dreams. In an attempt to quell this additional sense of loss, she threw herself whole heartedly into selecting gifts for her unborn niece or nephew, a person who would be very treasured in her life, much as his or her parents were.

Further distraction came in the form of a thoroughly delightful personal shopper at Saks Fifth Avenue who's extremely impressive interpersonal skills had her relaxed and willing to be styled within minutes. She'd only enquired about the service on a whim, and had felt it likely that she would be making her excuses and escaping, but after a few minutes chat she threw caution to the wind as she believed the saying went. Besides, she knew from Angela that a post break-up makeover was almost a cultural right of passage, as an anthropologist perhaps this was something she should experience. While there was no technical relationship break-up, her heart had, metaphorically, broken-up, and her friendship and partnership may as well have done, she had lost the most important person in her life, the one who made her feel whole.

While not wishing to speak with anyone during this brief escape she was keeping her cell on in case anyone needed to contact her urgently. While waiting at the store salon for her spontaneously scheduled hair appointment she checked her messages. A surprising number of voicemails and texts has accumulated over the course of the morning.

First Angela: "Sweetie, got your message, hope you have a fabulous week. Kind of jealous you're in New York and I'm in the lab. But seriously, this will be good for you Bren. Call if you need to talk."

Then a message from Cam: "Dr Brennan, thank you for your message, a little short notice but I'm glad you're finally taking a vacation, particularly one that doesn't involve bones, dust and grime. Daisy is ready and...uh...exceptionally willing to go into the field should the necessity arise. You realize Booth may shoot both of us, or her, for that though. But seriously, I hope this break is what you need. These recent months can't have been easy. As to your request, I too believe that our, as you put it, mutual professional respect has evolved towards friendship. I would be please to call you Temperance, outside of our professional exchanges of course, but remember it's Cam not Camille. Anyway, enjoy New York, we'll see you Monday."

Daisy's exuberant voice rang out from the third message: "Dr Brennan, thank you so, so much for trusting me to deputize in your absence. I promise I won't let you down, that is...if I do get to go a crime scene. Oh, that feels wrong...I'm not hoping for a murder...I just... Anyway, Dr Brennan, I promise I'll do you proud. I'm so excited...I better go, bones to examine, work to do. Bye."

She had obviously shared her excitement with her now on-again boyfriend: "Dr Brennan, it's Dr Sweets. I understand you are unexpectedly absent from the Jeffersonian this week and I've observed that Agent Booth is particularly out of sorts this morning. To be honest, so much so I thought it best not to approach him. As your therapist if there is anything you would like to discuss regarding your partnership please don't hesitate to call. As your friend, have a wicked time."

Surprisingly there was also a message from her father: "Tempe, Sweetheart, Angela tells me you're in New York on vacation. Doesn't seem like you, running away on some mystery dig yes, though I am obviously glad that's not where you are...unless, you're not just saying New York to throw us off the scent are you? This can only be about Booth, I will kill him if he's hurt you Tempe. Call me and let your ol' Dad know you're okay, okay Sweetheart?"

On to the text messages. She found notification from Cam that someone would collect the Eames file from her apartment. A second text asking what a shabti looked like, and why her spare apartment key couldn't be under something more mundane. Then one more saying it was okay, she had managed to find it anyway.

And finally a text from Parker: _Bones, I sneaked my phone to school to text you as soon as I found out, I got an A in my science project! Thank you so so much for all your help. You're ace! I really miss you. love Parker x_

Brennan sent a reply to Parker congratulating him and made a mental note to ask Booth if she could take Parker on a celebratory outing when she returned home. She missed Parker too, he was a delightful child, she really enjoyed spending time with him. Having previously believed herself unable to bond with a child, she suspected the relationship she had built with Parker had gone someway to motivating her desire for a baby those years ago.

She also sent a reassuring text to her father and sort a promise from him that Booth would not suffer any physical injuries.

Feeling buoyed by the messages from her family and friends, and by the new Temperance in the mirror, she went to join her personal shopper for an afternoon of what she believed was known as retail therapy.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Back at the lab the discovery of the voicemail messages from Dr. Brennan meant Cam and Angela spent a lengthy portion of the morning behind closed doors.

"You're thinking body snatchers, right?"

"Or perhaps that I woke up in an alternate reality where Dr. Brennan, sorry...Temperance, takes vacations and calls me Cam"

Angela knew Cam was going to need some kind of explanation, without breaking Brennan's confidence she tried to bring her boss up to speed on the missing anthropologist's new outlook on life, and the circumstances prompting it. For her part Cam shared her thoughts on her long time friend's new relationship and the odd few insights she'd gleaned from conversations with him.

After the first twenty minutes had passed Hodgins decided a little evesdropping was in order, he justified it by telling himself that he and Angie shared everything, he'd likely hear the conversation second hand over dinner that night anyway.

"He might be my friend but that man is an idiot." Cam sounded angry.

"My sentiments exactly." Angie sounded angry too, perhaps it was unwise to be of the male persuasion and be caught spying at this particular juncture, but he desperately wanted to know what the FBI agent had done.

"It's like he forgot everything he knew about her." Now Cam sounded incredulous.

"And in five seconds the leap from 'I've always known', 'I'm your guy', 'for the next 30, 40, 50 years' to 'I have to move on'...hello?" Exasperation had blown away Angela's attempt to keep the details to herself and her husband's resolve to remove himself from the door.

"Didn't he even say he loved her?" If Booth had been stood right there he'd have received a slap around the head form Cam for his sheer, just...idiocy. Angela, shook her head and looked despairing.

"How do two people who know each other so well, communication so well about everything else, manage to make such a fiasco out of their personal live? You could think they purposely want to misinterpret each other."

If anyone had been listening much sighing would have been heard at that moment, unfortunately for Hodgins Daisy had rounded the corner and he'd had to scoot away before she became inquisitive. Behind the doors the two women who'd spent so many years assuming the pair would get together eventually we're beginning to give up hope.

They'd disappeared into Brennan's office for the second time when Cam returned from her mission to retrieve the file.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and alerted, I really appreciate all comments, questions and suggestions. Please keep them coming especially any thoughts on how I can improve my writing.

_A/N:_

_SouthunLady - Glad you agree that pulling up her bootstraps and getting on with it seems plausible and like something she should do, even if she'd likely describe it as pulling on her shoelaces or something!_

_Frankie707 & KatBonesCrazy - I agree, it's shouldn't be as hard as Booth is finding it to focus on Hannah and not Brennan. As I've mentioned before I've seen very little of season 6 so not sure how their relationship has played out on screen, I'm imagining that really it's his loyalty to the relationship he is in that is keeping him with Hannah, as well as perhaps an unidentified feeling that he's sacrificed everything with Bones for his relationship with Hannah so it damn well better work out. I'm sure he does know deep down that it is wrong with Hannah and fixing things with Brennan is what he needs to prioritize.__Even though the buried feelings for Bones are resurfacing I think it will take sometime for him to admit to himself that he is with the wrong woman.__ It will mean admitting to himself that his relationship with Hannah was formed on shaky ground and I wouldn't imagine he'd like to think he could effectively cheat on Bones and use a woman as 2nd best as he has effectively done to Hannah. He'll also have to admit he's caused Bones unnecessary pain and that he played it very wrongly outside the Hoover. We also hear lots about her fear which results from her childhood but we forget he was afraid for those six years too and also had a painful childhood (actually much more and of his younger childhood than her) where a parent that was supposed to love him caused him serious harm. In a way the fact they've always pushed away any sign that the other loves them and assumed it's mearly a sign of platonic affection has been sort of a test, if I push away will you push back or just leave/hurt me as deep down they both have been deeply hurt by people who were supposed to love them and unconsciously it's as if they are seeking to repeat this pattern. (Phew, sorry got carried away there!)_

_Nertooold54 - Hannah reads the books soon, curiosity I think, I'm playing it that she has not acknowledged the signs of B&Bs bond and the books wake her up, her response may also provoke a crazy action from Booth in reparations. I think she wants to fight for Booth as she wants to be with him, just not in the way he would want, she's not interested in building more of the relationship as she'd got what she needs from it, the sexual relationship, companionship when she wants it, and the person to come home to when the story is done._

_SqunitytotheBone - Thank you so much for the advice on getting a move on on forward progression and more dialogue. Think have shied away from dialogue a bit as finding it hard to sound true to character. Have a feeling I've still written more than necessary to get the point across. Just seem to keep on typing whatever comes into my head. Will aim to exercise more restraint and better planning as I go on!_

_Bostonlegalgirl - I know, shame on me prioritizing looking after my toddler over writing updates! Actually looking after her is quite fun, it's the endless household chores and paperwork mountains once she's asleep that I'd happily exchange for time to type away! _


	6. Chapter 6

**The Hearts in the Centre**

_A/N Really really sorry I fell off the planet with this, time just disappears with far less fun things to do in the evenings, and really there are many things I should have been doing the last two nights not piddling around with this, but never mind, I enjoyed it. P.S. Thank you for all the reviews and alerts._

_Disclaimer: Yes, obviously, nothing owned by me. No infringement intended._

_The story so far: Post Doctor in the Photo Brennan, never one to forget something she's learnt, decides to pick herself up, dust herself off and embrace life, no other regrets. Following a Saturday girl talk with Angela she's off to New York for a week. Booth meanwhile has resolved to fix his ailing partnership and friendship with her but is committed to making things work with Hannah despite the fact his mind is frequently not on the blonde. Angela and Cam found messages from Brennan on Monday morning informing them of her absence. Cam had gone to retrieve the Eames file from Brennan's appartment._

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

**Chapter 6:**

Angela sighed at the devastation her husband's latest experiment had wrought on the lab. "Cam's going to kill you, you do know that right?"

The agitated tempo of Cam's heels rang out through the lab.

"And I get a ringside seat." Angela grinned, delighted to watch the drama unfold.

Hodgins, mentally preparing an elaborate explanation, remained silent, though he felt his loving wife should be a little less amused, the experiment was totally unauthorized, she was right, Cam would be fuming.

To Angela's shock Cam sailed passed apparently oblivious to the destruction. Hodgins turned to his wife with an incredulous look on his face.

The moment he opened his mouth to scoff at her prediction, their boss spun around, her eyes flicked to carnage then back to the now panic stricken entomologist.

"Just fix it Dr Hodgins." She was unnaturally calm.

Deadpan Hodgins turned to the bemused woman beside him "Bodysnatchers again?"

Cam's glare was full force. "Or not," he near whispered, hurriedly turning to remedy the situation.

Turning to Angela Cam's expression changed to troubled, "Can we have five minutes in Dr. Brennan, sorry..." she held up her hand in correction a mock penitent expression on her face, "Temperance's office."

"You should be grateful really Cam, if she hadn't gone this way she'd be half way to Timbuktu by now."

Cam smiled, "Oh I am, I am, it'll just take a little getting used to that's all." She paused, "Come, fix my troubles."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Cam leant back on the door she'd just closed, hands on her cheek, consternation wrinkling her brow. Angela attempted to make herself comfortable on the couch, something told her they may be here for a while.

"Uurrrgh," intoned Cam.

Beginning to get concerned Angela silently raised her eyebrows in question. If she hadn't spent Saturday with Brennan she'd suspect Cam had found a flat devoid of possessions, her best friend on the run. Then remembering, "Didn't you get the file?"

"Ohhhh...I panicked and left it behind." Cam was now standing between the door and the sofa bitting her bottom lip drifting off into thought.

"Are you going to let me in on the problem, or do I have time for a nap?" Angela looked quizzically at her boss while moving to a horizontal position on the couch; sitting had brought on tiredness, the all consuming exhaustion had annoyingly not magically vanishing after the first trimester.

Cam shook herself out of her thoughts and sank down onto the arm of the couch facing Angela.

"I just grabbed the file and turned to leave and swoosh...a letter fell to the floor. I don't know whether it came out of the file, or maybe it was underneath..." she trailed off, a look of angst on her face.

Angela's eyes lit with recognition and her mouth formed a silent 'Ohhh' just as Cam started to speak again.

"It was addressed to Booth, or rather it said 'Letter to Booth'."

Noticing Angela's expression Cam furrowed her brows and then her face lit up with relief.

"You know something about this."

"She needed some kind of...emotional closure, to get everything to stop swirling around that brain of hers, I said she should write it out of her system, write to Booth." She paused, "She said she wasn't going to give it to him though."

Hearing the word closure Cam looked slightly crestfallen.

"You think all of this is the end for them?"

Like Angela she'd always been rooting for the pair. Seeley Booth was a truely valued friend and she could see just how much he needed her star Anthropologist, how much she had made him the best version of himself, well, up until recently.

"No, I think this is the end of Act One," Angela stated. Seeing the confusion on Cam's face she continued. "If this were a play, we'd be at the end of Act One. They've both admitted their feelings, obviously being Booth and Brennan they've failed to use those all important "I love you" words, but let's not dwell on that. Anyway, they've both rejected each other, stupidly resolved to move on. Now it's the interval, the curtain is down...and I need ice cream."

Both women laughed at Angela's food related levity, though actually Angela could have eaten her second pint of the morning if the image of a beached whale didn't occasionally flash through her mind.

"You think they can get themselves out of this unholy mess?"

Angela screwed up her face, "You know...I don't know. I really hope they can. I want this to be a romance not a tragedy, but given their appauling track record for being on the same page at the same time... Booth, he's...it's going to take time for it to get through that thick skull of his that he's being loyal to the wrong woman, what if by the time he's realized it's too late, she's moved on too. I've all but begged her to wait him out, but I don't know...once she makes up her mind..."

Both women sighed once again, lost in silent contemplation that perhaps they were more invested in resuscitating the floundering relationship than the protagonists were.

Cam broke the silence, "But, the letter...do you think she wants him to read it now? Was it supposed to be in the file when we passed it on? Did it just happen to be on the desk? Was I supposed to send him for the file so he'd find it? I didn't know what to do, so I panicked and left them both there." Cam's gesture and face betrayed how ridiculous she now thought her action to be. "You know, the man has a gun. I guess I just didn't want to be the messenger who got shot."

"Who's shooting the messenger?" Startled by Booth's voice behind her Cam practically fell of the arm of the couch.

"Seeley... did you need something?"

"Just Bones and the Eames file... Camille." he shrugged. His nonchalant exterior skillfully hiding his uncertainty of how it was going to be to see Bones for the first time since her revelation.

It was Cam's turn to 'Ohhh' silently, the standard 'don't call me Camille' retort forgotten. Angela jumped in, "You didn't get a message?" She paused as he shook his head.

"She's gone..." In the split second before Angela could continue the blood drained from Booth's face "to New York for a week." He did his best to recover his composure but his sign was audible.

Blithely Angela continued, "The file is at her place. She asked us to pick it up, we haven't had a chance yet. You want to grab it on your way back to the Hoover?"

Cam starred at her. Thankfully Booth, lost in thoughts of Brennan's absence, failed to notice her expression.

"She's coming back right?" He was nodding his head as if to encourage confirm that all would be okay again. "This isn't some ruse and in a week we find she's...just...gone?"

"Relax Booth. I saw her Saturday. She's amazingly positive considering... she wants to... make sure she has no other regrets," continuing after a loaded pause, "She intends to embrace life so that's what she's doing."

Unconvinced Booth turned to leave, "Thanks you for going to her Angela."

She looked at him pointedly "_You_ don't need to thank me Booth, well, neither does Brennan, I just did what anyone would do for their best friend."

She caught the flash of contrition, of guilt that passed his eyes, a touch of sadness, momentarily the look of the real Seeley Booth the one they had begun to think had disappeared.

Booth left and Cam turned to her colleague surprise still etched on her face, "So, you think she _does _want him to read the letter?"

"No. But maybe we've _not _meddled for too long."

Angela shrugged at Cam's dubious expression. Truthfully she felt a little dubious herself, it had been an impulsive decision, born out of a desire to make things right for her friend, but oh how she hope Brennan hadn't written anything in that letter that would really mean the end to all hopes of everything working out eventually.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Booth tentatively turned his 'emergency' key in the lock, a substantial part of him still expected to find an empty apartment. Signs of habitation provided relief to his frazzled nerves, until he looked into her eyes again he wasn't going to believe all was fine.

He spotted the file on her unusually untidy bureau, grabbing it he turned to leave but something caught his eye. Turning back to examine the pile of paperwork the file had been resting on his gaze fell to a partially obscured envelope, his name written in her familiar slanting script, black ink standing out starkly on the heavy ivory paper.

He eased it out of the pile, unobscured it read 'Letter to Booth' not simply 'Booth'. Was he even supposed to find this? What if someone else had come to retrieve the file? Was it intended for him, or simply a way to write him out of her system? Perhaps given the lamentable state of their relationship it was better that any writing was of a private variety not aired via their fictional conterparts. Quite frankly he'd be embarrassed for Andy's actions to mirror his own of late, especially given his long standing and rather vocal assertions that he was irrefutably the inspiration for the character. Funny that he's failed to point this out to his current girlfriend, what would she think if she read Bones' books?

As if his unconscious had made the decision for him he found his thumb sliding into the envelope. He eased out the numerous sheets and tried not to notice her distinctive 'Bones' fragrance lightly scenting the pages. Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding he began to read.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

_A/N: Reviews, comments, anything appreciated, particularly constructive advice. Am I managing to move on at a better pace now? (The story, obviously not the updates!) Or am I still waffling too much? Is it too wordy? I'm slightly afraid that lack of speaking to other adults most of the time, and thus inability to speak coherently when I do, means I've sort of gone into overdrive and my brain is trying to prove I do have a vocabulary really, but where it's not really appropriate or necessary. So, any suggestions appreciated, this is the first piece of fiction I've written I guess since whenever I last had to at school, and my that was many years ago._


	7. Chapter 7

**The Hearts in the Centre**

_A/N - Aaaggh, I could re-read,tweek and change for ever, have spent far too much time on this as it is, so here it is, finally the letter. Many, many apologies for the length of time it's taken to get here (and any, or rather the many, mistakes that are surely still here). I do hope it meets with your approval! Please, please let me know what you think: good, bad or ugly. _

_P.S. Thank you for the reviews and alerts last chapter._

_Disclaimer: Yes, obviously, nothing owned by me. No infringement intended._

_The story so far: Post Doctor in the Photo Brennan, never one to forget something she's learnt, decides to pick herself up, dust herself off and embrace life, no other regrets. Following a Saturday girl talk with Angela she's off to New York for a week. Booth meanwhile has resolved to fix his ailing partnership and friendship with her but is committed to making things work with Hannah despite the fact his mind is frequently not on the blonde. Angela and Cam found messages from Brennan on Monday morning informing them of her absence. Cam had gone to retrieve the Eames file from Brennan's apartment, found the letter, was in discussion with Angela about it back at the lab when Booth walked in, Angela sent him for the file and he found the letter._

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**End of chapter 6: **

_As if his unconscious had made the decision for him he found his thumb sliding into the envelope. He eased out the numerous sheets and tried not to notice her distinctive 'Bones' fragrance lightly scenting the pages. Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding he began to read._

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**Chapter 7, The Letter:**

Dearest Booth,

It feels very strange to write a letter to you that I don't intend for you to read; however, I believe the process of writing will aid my attempt to move on, as I must do, and as you have.

I do very much hope that this exposition of my feelings will help me to put them to one side, because at this moment I feel as though my love for you may never diminish; although logically I know this not to be true. As you promised you have proven to me that love exists but you have also proven, as I knew, that love is ephemeral, it does not last and cannot be relied upon; nothing and no-one can, as I always feared. While I now intend to embrace my life and to live with as few regrets as is possible, I have remade my peace with the knowledge that love will not figure in my future; my foray into this area has been proven a folly.

Firstly I must apologize to you, I've hurt you and I'm so very sorry. It hurts me deeply to know I have caused you pain; please know that this was never ever my intention. More than anything, more than my own happiness, I want you to be happy, to have the life and relationship you deserve.

I will forever regret not recognizing the moment outside the Hoover for the pivotal one that it was, for not overcoming my fears, for not trusting that I could be enough for you. However dwelling on my regret is not the purpose of this letter. As you did, I will move on. The loss of what we once had, and what we could have had, will forever be mourned in my heart. Although you are now fading from my life, you have left a lasting legacy, my heart has been opened. I can feel, more importantly, I want to feel; I refuse to be scared anymore. Is it ironic or tragic that at possibly the most important moment in my life I failed to think logically? In trying to resist inevitable entropy I lost everything I was trying to protect.

While I do not pretend to comprehend the extent of the feelings you once had for me - you wanted to test, to try, to gamble, and yet you said you knew, you wanted a lifetime, and yet moments later you needed to move on - I understand that there was once something beyond the platonic bounds of our professional relationship.

Why has this been the one area in which our knowledge of the other has failed so dramatically when we excel at understanding each other in every and any other matter? We have confided the depths of our minds, or souls as you would have it, to each other, and yet we failed ourselves by never finding the courage to speak of the most important part, the contents of our hearts. I think you must be incredibly surprise to find me writing of my heart; more of you has seeped into me than I could ever have imagined.

Perhaps my explanations will only make sense if I start at the beginning.

My parents' disappearance, Russ' abandonment and the abhorrent experience of foster care conspired to sever the connection between by mind and my heart: the feelings I experienced were too much to bear so I learn to ignore them, but I ignored them for so long, trained myself to only accept fact, logic, truth and evidence, that I lost the ability to comprehend my emotions.

When we first met I felt something too, but I was unable to ascertain what it was, what it meant. Now I can see that is was the realization that we would always have a deep abiding connection, I imagine you would term it love at first sight. I believe the strength of emotion was too strong, too foreign, and it scared me, the notion of connecting with someone so deeply and feeling loss again was too much to bear, and so, as I do, or rather, as I did, I ran.

I tried, and largely succeeded, to forget the feeling you had stirred. However, when we began to work together again my respect and admiration for, and attraction to, your character seemed only to strengthen, as did my appreciation of your physical attributes - yes Booth, I admit it, I find you devastatingly handsome. It amuses me to write this, imagining your reaction to reading this, although I have no intention of ever giving this letter to you.

When our moments of connection brought wistful notions of more to my mind I reminded myself that to you I was simply your partner and friend, that I shouldn't mistake the deep bond of friendship and sexual attraction for any romantic desire on your part, there was no danger of crossing the line you had drawn.

I convinced myself it was the same on my part, simply natural feelings for a friend so important to me as you. I felt that I should feel extremely fortuitous to have you in my life at all. With reflection I believe I buried my feelings for you inside our friendship and partnership. I didn't realize the extend to which you had snuck in through the cracks in my walls, but you had, and you found your way to my heart. I remained unaware, but it is now clear to me that you claimed ownership and took up residence a long time ago.

You asked to gamble, to see if you could love me, but for me the stakes were too high, I knew I'd loose. I felt I couldn't be enough for you to love, I couldn't be who you would need me to be, I couldn't open my heart wide enough. It was clear to me that you would find me wanting, and I couldn't bear to disappoint you in that way.

Illogically I accepted as true that trying and, inevitably, failing would mean loosing what what we had as partners and as friends. Yet, I clung to the notion that refusing to try would keep everything as it was. I couldn't bear to risk loosing what I had of you; I'd lost you before, your death hollowed out my insides. In fear I forgot that everything changes. I failed to realize that if you moved on nothing would or could be the same. This has been proven true, what we had is ebbing away at a speed I could not have anticipated. I understand, I do, as much as it pains me to admit, Sweets was correct, we did have a surrogate relationship, now you have a real one you do not need me. I will not deny that this has been a difficult adjustment - and I see now that my attempt to befriend Hannah is a desperate bid to remain close to you - but I know that it is important for you to put everything you have into the relationship with the woman who will be your future.

Maluku gave me the time and space I required to think clearly. Being parted from you allowed me to clearly evaluate your presence in my life, to evaluate myself without you. I realize that although you had changed me, so much for the better, maybe enough to be good enough for you, that I was still me, I could stand alone, I could live without you, I just did not want to, and I could take the risk, I could take you up on your gamble, because if we failed, I would be devastated, but I would not crumble to nothing.

I understand now that I hurt you very much by not communicating while we were apart. Once I had come to the realization that maybe we could have those 30, 40 or 50 years I wrote many letters to you, though lamentably they remained in my possession, when the opportunity to post one arose I would decided that I didn't want you to read that I loved you in a letter, and I was also uncertain that you would still want to try, I needed to speak with you face to face. Then of course, once we were reunited, I learnt of Hannah, and I resolved never to reveal my feelings to you, to do whatever was necessary to ensure you found the happiness you truly deserve.

I am sorry that I failed to honour this commitment to you on Friday night. I should not have put my desires above your feelings. As you know the Eames case affected me deeply. I found myself reluctant to follow her path, to live a life free of connection to others, a life surely filled with regret. My life turned upside down. I acted impulsively in reveling my sentiments to you, it was imprudent, I did not think, I just knew I couldn't live with myself if I did not make you aware of my feelings. Yet, I am aware that I still told you relatively little, I imagine this is why this letter is proving cathartic, while you will never read these words, expressing the evolution of my emotions has helped me to understand both my actions and inactions, logical and illogical.

If only I had assessed my desire to reveal myself to you in a rational manner I would have saved us from a conversation which is surely to have inflicted further damage on the already fragile bonds of our friendship. I know you so very well, I understand the strength of your feelings for Hannah, I understand that she offers a much stronger chance of providing you with the happy future you desire, I know that you are a loyal man, I know that you would never have forsaken the promise you have made to her for my belated declaration.

Any explanation I can offer for such foolishness is mearly an excuse, I should not have done what I did, it was not the actions of a good friend, not the actions of someone who only wants your utmost happiness.

I must end here, as this must all end. I suppose this letter is an adieu to the you who lives in seemingly my every waking thought and deep within my dreams. My fanciful notions of a future with you, a family with you, must end. These fictitious characters must no longer reside in my imagination.

I now understand the feeling of heartbreak; strangely however, I am glad to feel, event if it means that I am hurting so very deeply at the moment. Once the damage has healed perhaps I will be stronger, though I know I do not ever intend to repeat this experience.

Please do not feel any sorrow for me as I know your generous heart is wont to do; I am excited to embrace the rest of my life, to enjoy my family, my friends, to forge a life outside of the lab. I intend to honour Dr Eames memory by doing what she cannot.

With deepest affection, Bones

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_A/N: Okay, so it is probably very OOC for her to write about her heart (well the whole emotion filled letter really) I have taken it that firstly she is effectively writing to herself, secondly, she knows he would know, if it really was to him, that she was using it in a metaphorical sense, although in TV reality she would be very likely to add in a caveat about not really believing the heart could feel blah blah, in my story she's trying to ease up on the 'science' in her life outside of work and somehow the explanation didn't suit the tone of the letter. Hope you can just go with it!_


	8. Chapter 8

**The Hearts in the Centre**

_A/N - __Am so so sorry that I haven't posted for a month, no idea where the time has gone except to say that real life has become hideously overloaded. Unfortunately I haven't spent the last month crafting some fantastic chapter, am afriad this is a quickly knocked out half a chapter, but in the interested of posting something..._

_Also, thank you thank you thank you for the fabulous reviews for the letter chapter, really made my day._

_Disclaimer: Yes, obviously, nothing owned by me. No infringement intended._

_The story so far: Post Doctor in the Photo Brennan, never one to forget something she's learnt, decides to pick herself up, dust herself off and embrace life, no other regrets. Following a Saturday girl talk with Angela she's off to New York for a week. Booth meanwhile has resolved to fix his ailing partnership and friendship with her but is committed to making things work with Hannah despite the fact his mind is frequently not on the blonde. Angela and Cam found messages from Brennan on Monday morning informing them of her absence. Cam had gone to retrieve the Eames file from Brennan's apartment, found the letter, was in discussion with Angela about it back at the lab when Booth walked in, Angela sent him for the file and he found the letter. Then he read the letter._

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**Chapter 8: **

Booth stood motionless staring at the letter as if willing it to tell him what to think or what to do.

His eyes began to flick from paragraph to paragraph, unable to settle, unable to process the implications of all that he had read; there was simply too much to take in.

'_...my love for you...'_

She loved him?

She loved him.

He couldn't take in those words; words he would have celebrated hearing not so very long ago. She had talked about regrets in the car, but she hadn't said she loved him.

'_You asked to gamble, to see if you could love me...'_

She didn't know he loved her?

She didn't know he loved her.

How could she not know he loved her, had always loved her, would always love her?

Would always love her?

He still loved her.

How had he been kidding himself for so many months that he didn't?

He hadn't ever said those words though had he?

How could he have expected factual, evidenced-based Temperance Brennan to know he loved her without actually speaking the words?

Once again he replayed the memory-worn conversation outside the Hoover but for the first time he truly paid attention to her words, to what he knew of her, to what the letter had revealed. With a jolt he realized she hadn't rejected him, she had rejected herself for him.

'_...I couldn't be enough for you to love, I couldn't be who you would need me to be, I couldn't open my heart wide enough. It was clear to me that you would find me wanting...'_

Further cracks streaked through his carefully constructed emotional dam. The letter, this realization, they threatened to change everything. Or did they?

Part of him felt so close to her, reading this letter, finally having her open up to him completely, if unintentionally; but the other part, selfishly it wished he had never seen this letter, not been further burdened by the knowledge that all his hopes and dreams could have been realized if only...so many, too many, if onlys.

He had new hopes and dreams now didn't he? He loved Hannah too. He'd re-imagined his life with a new leading lady.

The realization he was in love with two women didn't mean it was a case of choosing. It wasn't about who he loved most or who he could have the life he wanted with. Hannah had moved her whole life here for him, made sacrifices in her all-important career, was willing to work on the bumps in the road. It was about loyalty to the woman he was with, wasn't it?

It was, as she would say, conjecture to assume she would be willing to begin a relationship now anyway, she'd never intended that he know what he now knew, she seemed to greatly regret her revelation on Friday; conveniently his mind glossed over the fact her regret stemmed from his commitment to another woman.

Lost in his thoughts it took several rings for him to notice and answer his cell. A brief conversation with Hacker banished the whole troubling mess from his mind. There was a body. Work-mode took over. He found himself alarmingly grateful that a potential murder meant he now couldn't dwell on this new found knowledge.

He moved to leave the apartment but realized he still clutched the letter. If he took it, she would know he had it, know he'd read it, she would know he knew. His gaze fell on her printer, recalling that it had a copier function he instinctively moved forward and turned the machine on. He knew he would need the opportunity to read those words again however he chose to react to them.

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Still feeling fairly dazed Booth phoned the lab, speaking to Cam he barely reacted to the news that Daisy would be assisting him on the case and, in a moment of either madness or self-flagellation, he told her he'd be over to the lab to collect her. It was only when he parked at the Jeffersonian that it hit him that he'd have to spend two hours in the car with Daisy, or more importantly with Daisy's high-speed incessant babbling, this would either work in his favour to keep his mind free of unwanted thoughts, or be the straw that broke the camel's back. Unfortunately the state of numbness that had settled on him prevented him from coming up with an adequate excuse of why she should now meet him at the scene.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

An hour into the return journey and it seemed to Booth that Daisy had yet to take a breath, he didn't know why he was surprised. Abruptly she changed topic, not that Booth had the slightest idea what she'd been saying before, his brain had simply been receiving 'mwa-mwa-mwa-mwa'.

"Agent Booth, I'm disappointed in you." Daisy's braveness deserting her as she cowered under the glowering look he threw at her.

However, his lack of verbal response gave her the impetus to continue. "All those lettters Dr. Brennan wrote you from Indonesia and you never wrote back. I totally imagined her coming home with a stack of love letters, tied up with ribbon..." She trailed off lost in a dream of the love letters actually belonging to her, from Lance of course, he hadn't written either.

His irritation drew him to uncharacteristically comment on his private life. "Not that it's your business Daisy but she never sent those letters." Crap, crap, crap, he wouldn't have know that if he hadn't read her letter. He sent a silent prayer that Daisy never brought this conversation up with her mentor. Thankfully it would seem highly unlikely.

"Oh." The pause that followed lead Booth to the mistaken conclusion that the topic was closed. He breathed a sigh, perhaps she'd be quiet now. He looked at the GPS, fifty miles to go.

Just as he relaxed she started up again. "I should apologize too. Lance says I was projecting us onto you two when told Dr. Brennan she was holding you back. It's his fault too though, he was the one who said you were a true warrior."

Booth's eyes crinkled in confusion, he glanced at his passenger. "What are you talking about Daisy?" The steel in his tone left her wide-eyed.

"I...er...well..." For once it seemed Daisy was lost for words, however she'd mistakenly started this so she blurted her confession in a high-speed word stream. "I really really wanted Dr. Brennan to come to Maluku, but she said she hadn't decided yet whether to go or not, she said she wanted to discuss it with you first, so I said that I was sure you'd go to Afghanistan and I told her that Lancelot said you have the psyche of a true warrior and he was surprise you hadn't gone back to the army sooner..." She paused for breath, then wrinkled her nose as if assessing whether to continue. Once look at the firm set of Booth's jaw told her she didn't have much choice, he was liable to shoot her either way. "I told her that maybe she was holding you back, the way you were holding her back." Daisy grimaced slinking down in her seat, after a few moments she serepticiously looked at the brooding FBI Agent next to her.

Booth's brain had had more than enough for one day, it couldn't compute this new information. When he spoke his tone was measured, emotionless but firm: "Daisy, I believe it would be in your best interests to pass the rest of the journey in quiet contemplation."

Booth however did not want to quietly contemplate so he entertained himself with the fantasy of pulling in at a gas station and leaving Daisy there, surely 'Lancelot' could come and rescue her. He was sorely tempted to do it too, but damn it, his sense of right, wrong and female safety was simply too engrained.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Hearts in the Centre**

_A/N - __Don't fall over in shock but this is another chapter, albeit a little on the short side, without a month long wait. Thanks to all who review and alert, a little poking and prodding about hurrying on the updates goes a long way... particularly when I don't know how to begin to tackle the mammoth pile of real life things I should really be doing!_

_I hope no-one minds that I am totally glossing over any details of the case, don't have time to think or research and I'm guessing that's not why you're reading._

_Also hoping you're still interested in reading a getting it together eventually story when they have now got it together (we presume), will keep on going unless it turns out no-one is reading it._

_Disclaimer: Yes, obviously, nothing owned by me. No infringement intended._

_The story so far: Post Doctor in the Photo Brennan, never one to forget something she's learnt, decides to pick herself up, dust herself off and embrace life, no other regrets. Following a Saturday girl talk with Angela she's off to New York for a week. Booth meanwhile has resolved to fix his ailing partnership and friendship with her but is committed to making things work with Hannah despite the fact his mind is frequently not on the blonde. Angela and Cam found messages from Brennan on Monday morning informing them of her absence. Cam had gone to retrieve the Eames file from Brennan's apartment, found the letter, was in discussion with Angela about it back at the lab when Booth walked in, Angela sent him for the file and he found the letter. Then he read the letter. A case came up and a drive with Daisy ensued._

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**At the end of Chapter 8: **

_Booth however did not want to quietly contemplate so he entertained himself with the fantasy of pulling in at a gas station and leaving Daisy there, surely 'Lancelot' could come and rescue her. He was sorely tempted to do it too, but damn it, his sense of right, wrong and female safety was simply too engrained._

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**Chapter 9: **

Early Wednesday morning Booth entered the lab with a spring in his step, he'd been working solidly on the case following up leads interviewing what seemed like a million witnesses.

_That's quite an over estimate Booth, it was only 20._ Even without his partner accompanying him she was managing to make a guest appearance in his thoughts with alarming regularity.

Despite the usual mid-case weariness he was immensely grateful of the need to devote himself completely to task and therefore ignore the head and heart-aching mess that was his private life.

Swiping his card he bounded up the stairs recognising her voice with a start.

"...if you're positive you don't need me Clark I won't come back but the moment that changes, not that I doubt your excellent skills, let me know."

At once, as if choreographed, several things occurred.

As Brennan briefly looked down at her laptop to terminate the video-call a male figure, clad only in towel, ambled across the screen behind her.

Booth reached the top of the platform, perfectly timed to see the man cross the last third of the screen and disappear. Pirouetting 180 degrees he immediately began to decend the stairs pulling out his mobile and issuing the firm and familiar "Booth" to the dial tone. He just hoped everyone was too busy to notice it hadn't rung. Fat chance with the supersquints.

As Brennan, oblivious to both the figure behind her and Booth's arrival and abrupt departure, bid a cheery "Bye guys, see you Monday," and clicked to end the call Daisy recognised the figure and yelled out "Hi Christian!" The screen momentarily caught Brennan's confused expression as the Jeffersonian logo reappeared.

Cam, Angela, Hodgins and Clark looked on in varying degrees of surprises and confusion.

"Awkward," intoned Clark, in a perfect imitation of Angela.

She shot him a mock disgruntled look and turned to the intern-of-the-week. "Daisy, spill on the hot nude guy."

Cam surprised a grin and addressed Hodgins, "Booth's phone didn't actually ring did it?"

The entomologist shook his head and looked down smiling in amusement, "No, no, not even a vibrate."

Angela glared at her husband, "Jack! This is serious, it just keeps getting worse. How are they ever going to get together at this rate?"

Cam shook her head an mused, "Maybe they're not Ange, maybe they're not."

Frustrated at being forgotten Daisy pipped up, "Doesn't anyone want to know about Christian?"

At that Angela's expression changed instantly from dispirited to learily curious, at least Brennan had found some hot stuff to cheer herself up; besides a spot of jealousy might be just what Booth needed.

Daisy's explanation that the man in question was a colleague from Maluku and completely unlikely to be a love-interest deflated Angela's sails.

She mused that as he and his partner lived outside of the city that they'd ended up crashing in Brennan's hotel room after an evening out.

As usual once Daisy got started there was no stopping her. "When we got back it was so, so romantic. He and Mark had had a massive fight about him leaving for Maluku, but eventually they made up; apparently Mark was writing the most amazing love letters. Then, when our flight touched down he was waiting for Christian at the gate, and he just got down on one knee and proposed there and then. It was, just, lovely."

Looking slightly downcast, as she'd wished it had been Lance making romantic overtures at the airport, she turned to address Angela and continued, "I was really hoping that's kind of what would happen with Agent Booth and Dr Brennan too, I'm mean he strikes me as a real romantic and she was writing him so many letters."

Lowering her tone to a stage whisper she plowed on, "But you know, I found out she never sent them. I guess that's why he ended up coming back with Hannah."

Angela looked torn between remonstrating with Daisy for gossiping about her best friend and leading her away for coffee and a subtle interrogation.

Cam solved the dilemma for her by hustling them along, "Back to work folks, murder to solve, you know, nothing important."

Outside the labs sliding doors Booth was in two mind about going back in. He didn't want to hear the gossip about Brennan's suitor but he'd look ridiculous if he just disappeared without word. He looked ridiculous enough as it was faking the call, he hoped they'd take mercy on him, surely Angela would.

He couldn't believe Bones had moved on already. He'd been right, the letter was simply an explanation of her feelings, certainly not a plea to recapture their lost chance.

Booth re-entered the lab to a smirk from Hodgins, "Important call Booth?"

Angela rolled her eyes at her husband and opened her mouth to offer the clearly agitated FBI agent an explanation for what he'd seen but he cut her off, "I've got a lead to follow up, yell when you've got something for me."

He turned to leave once again, acutely aware he was at a dead end until they worked their magic and that this left dangerous thinking space in his head.

Fortuitously for Booth the video-call with Dr Brennan had confirmed Clark's suspicions, swiftly reappraise the damage to the cranium while the gossip had continued around him he claimed 'King of the Lab' before Booth had made it to the bottom step.

"Hey," pouted Hodgins, "who said you were even in the running?"


	10. Chapter 10

**The Hearts in the Centre**

_A/N - Am so so sorry this chapter has taken forever to post, then further apologies that it is very short and also pretty crap, I wouldn't post it but to add on this apology for taking so long to post anything. We're just about to move so my nights are either busy with sorting, clearing and packing or my little girl still being awake as she's had a too late in the afternoon nap. Will be a few weeks before I manage any more. Though I do still intend to finish the story... I say finish, have a feeling there are about 15 more chapters or something to go..._

_Thank you so much to all who have reviewed, apologies I've not got around to responding yet. _

_Disclaimer: Yes, obviously, nothing owned by me. No infringement intended._

_The story so far: Post Doctor in the Photo Brennan, never one to forget something she's learnt, decides to pick herself up, dust herself off and embrace life, no other regrets. Following a Saturday girl talk with Angela she's off to New York for a week. Booth meanwhile has resolved to fix his ailing partnership and friendship with her but is committed to making things work with Hannah despite the fact his mind is frequently not on the blonde. Angela and Cam found messages from Brennan on Monday morning informing them of her absence. Cam had gone to retrieve the Eames file from Brennan's apartment, found the letter, was in discussion with Angela about it back at the lab when Booth walked in, Angela sent him for the file and he found the letter. Then he read the letter. A case came up and a drive with Daisy ensued. Back in the lab Booth walks in on a video chat with Brennan and gets the wrong idea about a nude man in her hotel room._

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**Chapter 10: **

Several hours after returning from New York Brennan found herself ringing the doorbell at the Hodgins Estate having accepted a last minute invitation to dinner.

Flinging open the front door with her trademark cry of: "Sweetie!" Angela's beaming smile turned to shock as she greeted her formerly shopping shy best friend.

"Bren, what did you do buy New York?" Angela asked incredulously surveying the haul surrounding Brennan on the front step.

Hearing her question Hodgins began to amble to the door calling out affectionately, "Okay, who are you and what have you done with my wife?"

Brennan smiled, "I may have gotten a little carried away. Well, a lot carried away. Your influence has obviously rubbed off."

Arriving at the door way Hodgins gaped at his colleague, "Dr. B, I promise I will never again let Angie complain that you don't know how to shop."

Having received a glare and a playful slap from his wife for his comment he began to help Brennan bring in the multitude of bags.

"Thank you." Brennan smiled, turning to address Angela she explained: "I wanted to bring a little something for you and the baby, however there were so many fantastic items and... Well, I believe I now understand what you mean by retail therapy. I found it very enjoyable to select items for my niece or nephew in there," indicating to Angela's ever growing belly.

"Besides I'm unlikely to ever have a child of my own now so I shall just have to spoil yours." She laughed at her assertion but her best friend saw the look of sadness momentarily flicker across her eyes.

Suddenly becoming a little self conscious she continued, "if you don't like anything though it can be sent back. I hope I've not overstepped..."

Angela cut her off, "Sweetie, no, it's so lovely of you, I'm sure you've bought us some fabulous things. Now, Iet's unpack!"

Hodgins smiled at his wife's glee and started to head toward the mansion's well-appointed kitchen, "I'll go get you ladies some drinks. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"...and these are for you." Brennan handed over two bags from the upscale boutique.

From them Angela pulled five wraps in eye catching colours and patterns. "Oooh, Sweetie, I love these fabrics."

"I wasn't certain you would be engaging in babywearing but I determined it was likely given your parenting intensions. Whist the practise is only now enjoying a resurgence in popularity in our society some researchers believe that transporting infants in slings may have been an important form of early tool use by early hominins allowing..."

Angela held up her hand to interrupt the impromptu anthropology lesson: "Thank you, Vincent."

Brennan smiled, "That wasn't a completely irrelevant fact."

She continued, "Sorry, I took some time to read more deeply into the enthnopediatrics field while on vacation."

Angela grinned at her, "Well, I supposed that's good, at least the anthropology on your vaccation wasn't a dig in the back of beyond this time."

Returning her gaze to the slings Angela continued: "Thank you though Sweetie, you've saved me, I had myself totally confused about which type I wanted. You know, researching baby stuff is like getting lost in a vortex of a million options, Jack has to practically drag me from the internet at night."

From behind them there was a sudden exclamation as Hodgins returned and spotted a gigantic stuffed toy spilling from one of the unopened bags, "Oh, wow, coccinella septempunctata!"

Angela turned to her husband and sighed, "Repeat after me, ladybug, it's a ladybug... you have got to start practicing normal words before the baby gets here. I really do not want this baby's first word to be a scientific term."

Brennan smiled at the exchange, "I thought you would appreciate the..." turning to address Angela, "ladybug." She continued, "There were surprisingly few entomological specimens available in soft toy form. I did however find these..." Brennan broke off to rummage in the pile of unopened bags, pulling out three very unusual looking stuffed toys.

Hodgins emitted an appreciative, "Dude...how cool are they?" as his wife looked questioningly at the items, "What are they?"

"Well, this one is a brain cell, this is a nerve cell and this one is penicillin."

Angela sighed once more, "Oh. You two are so going to squintify my poor baby aren't you?"

"I'm afraid so Ange, I'm afraid so." Grinned her husband. "Dr. B, these are awesome, do they do more?"

"Yes, their from a range called Giant Microbes, the sales assistant told me they have a huge variety, she said to look them up online, apparently they have a 'critters' range that includes a bedbug, a dust mite, a flea, a maggot..."

Hodgins face lit with barely contained excitement, before he was able to speak, or rush to the computer, Angela anticipated his actions and admonished, "I do not want to find the nursery full of...uuggh, just NO!"

"But, Angie" he pleaded, "what if I order them for me?"

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End file.
